


Just One Mistake

by thirdeyeopen



Category: Invader Zim
Genre: Abuse, Forced Starvation, Kinda?, M/M, Name-Calling, Rape, alcohol tw, alcohol use, it's not severe, petplay?, slight degradation, starvation mention, vomit tw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-14
Updated: 2020-04-14
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:48:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23649475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thirdeyeopen/pseuds/thirdeyeopen
Summary: It's not hard to make Dib angry. Somehow, Zim always seems to do it without fail.
Relationships: Dib/Zim (Invader Zim)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 60





	Just One Mistake

**Author's Note:**

> Mind the tags, please.

In the beginning, he was doing good. Dib came home from work, exhausted and grumpy, and Zim kept to himself. He didn't say anything other than a greeting, didn't even move from his spot. He stayed exactly where he was told, in the same spot Dib left him that morning. 

The Irken watches as Dib sits his stuff down, eyes following him as he moves through the kitchen. He throws open a cabinet door, and from it withdraws a nicely-sized bottle of whiskey. 

Zim's antennae droop the slightest bit; he hates when Dib drinks, for more than one reason. He perks up when Dib turns around, sitting obediently through the inexplicable stink-eye the human shoots at him as he steps into the living room and flops onto the recliner. 

Dib pops the cap off the whiskey bottle and takes a large swig, face warped into a perpetual distate as he pulls the bottle back from his mouth. Zim's antennae perk as the human slowly holds his hand out and crooks a finger at him. It's a silent command - come. 

Zim slinks off of his dog bed, creeping over to Dib. He's crawling; it's the way he's been instructed. He's had it beat into him more than once. 

Dib pats the arm of the chair twice, and Zim hops up, careful not to land on Dib's stomach or bump into his bottle. He calculates almost every move, expertly avoiding the many ways he could possibly make Dib angry now.

Dib pops the cap back on the bottle, sets it between his hip and the arm of the chair and tucks it in so it'll stay. His hand comes up, landing roughly on the top of Zim's head; the Irken jumps at it - it's almost like a smack - and watches, tensed up in anticipation for some kind of abuse. 

But then Dib is petting him, and Zim melts into it a little too fast. The human's fingers gently ghost over his cheeks, down to his neck and he bares it, quietly beginning to purr from the gentle treatment. 

Dib grabs his arm suddenly, and before the Irken can react he's rudely yanked over onto Dib's chest. The Irken freezes up, feeling so out of place there, suddenly too impure and dirty for such a nice, intimate spot. 

The hand goes back to petting, and Zim slowly lowers his head until he's resting his chin on Dib. His eyelids go half-lidded and then close, as Zim relaxes into the touches. 

He relaxes too much.

The Irken's eyes pop open in sudden horror, and he's met with Dib's cold, hard stare. A  _ knowing  _ stare. His fingers prod along Zim's ribs, feeling for harsh bumps that have mysteriously disappeared. 

Zim yanks himself away from the human, sitting up on his lap. Digging his own grave even deeper. He exposes his stomach, pudgy from food, so much less than concave. 

The differences are so noticeable. Dib stares for a long time, and all Zim can do is sit there and wait for him to react. Against his better judgement, instinct even, he stays quiet. He knows not to speak unless spoken to.

"Zim… you're fat." Dib says, accusingly. He slides his hand over the pudgy stomach, sprawling his fingers out to cover the skin. "Would you mind  _ explaining _ to me?" 

Permission to speak. But Zim hardly speaks a cohesive sentence. His panic takes control, and an almost-unintelligible mess of an explanation spills from his mouth -  _ sorryTallestmyPAKdidit, myPAKmademeeat, triedtostopbutiwastoohungry, I'msorrymyTallest.  _

And it's not a lie; his PAK forced him to gorge, to stop the device's organic host from faltering. But the excuse sounds pathetic coming from him, and he can tell within a single second that Dib is buying none of it. 

"Do you  _ think,"  _ Dib hisses out the last word, and Zim begins to lower himself, becoming smaller instinctually, "that my food is just  _ handouts?" _

"N-No, my Tallest." Zim whimpers out, antennae pinned back submissively. No more mentions of his excuses; he's said his side. Not believed? Too bad. "Not handouts, my Tallest." 

"Yet you take it anyway?" Rhetorical? Dib sits up, snagging Zim's antennae with a rough hand. " _ Steal from me _ while I'm at  _ work?" _

Forcing his hands not to fly up to his head, Zim gasps out, "No, my Tallest-"

"So you're saying you  _ didn't _ do it?" Dib snarls, grip tightening agonisingly as he glared daggers. Zim mentally kicks himself as he's backed into another corner; the situation would benefit from him shutting up, but he's being asked something. He can't just not reply. 

"N-No, my Tallest. Zim means, yes. Zim did steal from you, my Tallest. A-Ate your food like a pig."  _ But it wasn't my fault! It wasn't my fault, please-  _

Dib throws the Irken back by the antennae, unwilling to listen to it anymore. Zim tumbles off of the human's lap and hits his head so hard on the wood floor that it dizzies him instantly. He's so dazed that he can only watch as a boot is raised above his stomach… Zim only has the chance to try to curl up before Dib has stomped down. 

The force of it pushes bile up through Zim's throat. He can't even roll over before he's vomiting, only after. He's heaving and coughing as he dirties the floor. Winded, his breaths wheeze from the pain. 

Before he can even recover, Dib slams his head back down against the floor. He comes face to face with the sick, trapped with the terrible smell, face held down amongst it like a dog who's pissed in the carpet. He's staring at it even before Dib demands him to, sounding a master scolding his disobedient, useless pet. 

Then he's being yanked away from it, and he's both grateful and terrified for what's coming next. His body ragdolls as he's slammed onto the recliner, and he goes limp for Dib, staring, staring so blankly at him. 

Dib unbuckles his jeans. Zim keeps his eyes on the human's face, that scowl -  _ he  _ made that scowl. It's his fault for being such a pig. He's ready to accept the consequences. 

"Dib-" He says, voice hoarse from the sting of the bile. But it works. Dib stops, boxers halfway down, fuming as he glared at the Irken. Giving him this one, gracious chance to be heard. 

"...Tallest. Please." Zim begs, feeling his vent already beginning to open. He spreads his legs subconsciously, squirming on the cotton surface. "I'll bleed, I-I'll stain the recliner." 

It's not a plea for this not to carry on. Zim knows better than that. It's above his place to ask for mercy, especially when he's been bad enough to warrant such harsh maltreatment. It's a suggestion.

Dib wordlessly yanks Zim onto the floor, looking over him in such a way that makes him begin to drip. It becomes more of his body's panic response as Dib removes his boxers and presses his length against Zim's vent -  _ holdonholdonwait- _

Zim's back arches and he gives a loud scream as Dib all but forces himself in. It's rough, almost soulless, but his body accepts it, it's something,  _ it's something.  _ Dib pins him without a word, eyes focused down below as tears spring into Zim's eyes. 

He shuts them tightly with a whimper as Dib begins to thrust. He places his hands on both sides of the Irken, and unkindly picks up the pace. 

Zim was right - he  _ would  _ bleed. His vent is too tight for Dib, always has been, and the deep pink liquid that begins to leak is proof of that. Dib has always forced his way in - they've never had a passionate, gentle encounter. Zim wishes his body would just get with the program. 

Dib bottoms out in no time, just barely able to fit all of himself into the tiny Irken. Zim is trembling underneath him, his shaking hands slowly coming up to cover his face as he begins to sob. Dib never stops for him. 

Lying prone, Zim's mind begins to attack him. How could he have been so stupid? Starving or not, food was off limits unless Dib said otherwise.  _ He  _ decided when Zim got fed. And to eat so much of his food, gobble it up like a pig? He's lucky Dib isn't doing worse for disobeying him on such a scale. 

Hands over his eyes, the pained Irken sobs out in his shame and guilt. 

_ "My Tallest I'm so sor-hor-hyyy-"  _

His words are cut off as, suddenly, an intense pleasure explodes through his body. It's so sudden that it makes his back fly up, hands flying outwards to cling onto Dib's shoulder as the Irken gives a shout of pleasure, head tilting back as he shouts at the ceiling. Mouth open, tongue out, eyes wide and full of tears.

The tables have finally turned in his favor. Dib's struck his sweet spot. 

Oversensitive, Zim's thighs and feet twitch as Dib fucks into him. He clings to the human, eyes rolling back at the pleasure. 

"O-Ohhh my godddddddd…" He moans out, voice trailing off, feeling Dib's cock slam into his sweet spot without mercy. "Dib- my Tallest- f-fuHAH!" 

Dib remains silent above him, eyes closed, biting his bottom lip as he enjoys the feel of Zim. The Irken's tight walls seem to tug him in deeper, try to make him stay. Zim would assist them if he could feel his legs. 

Hands find their way to Zim's neck. He chokes when they press down, and then his PAK whirrs, beginning to breathe for him. 

"You dirty slut." Dib growls, teeth gritted from the exertion. "You're about to cum, aren't you? I can feel it." 

Zim can only give a screaming moan in response, drool leaking from his mouth as he's fucked ruthlessly. 

"Look at me. Look at me when you cum."

And Zim does. He opens his eyes - tears finally spilling - just as he cums, body tensing and legs thrashing from the sensation

His juices spill over Dib's cock, staining it a pretty, translucent pink. He can't scream this time, mouth agape uselessly as he rides out the afterwaves. 

Dib's lips fall upon his, and he groans as he fills the Irken up with cum, too much for his vent to hold on to. Zim melts into it, panting harshly against the human's lips as the length inside of him slows to a stop. 

When Dib removes himself, lets go of Zim and sits back, Zim is leaking both Dib's cum and his own. His vent quivers from the breeding, legs spread apart and trembling as Zim struggles to catch his breath. 

Zim's mind is hazy, fried from the pleasure. He doesn't realize Dib has redressed and stood up until he's looming overhead, coming into focus in Zim's blurry vision.

"Clean up your mess." He commands, voice cold and hateful again. Zim makes a quiet noise of affirmation, tongue heavy in his mouth as he stares up at his Tallest. "Then get back in bed." 

Dib disappears from sight. Zim doesn't try and follow him. 

A few moments later, he gets up, vent still dripping, thighs still shaking, and goes to follow his orders.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
